


Enter The Night

by oddgit



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Angst, M/M, ReeseWhump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-28 06:42:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10825887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddgit/pseuds/oddgit
Summary: “I… I think something’s happened to Mr. Reese…” He choked out, “detective Fusco said we need to go to the hospital.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't written Reese whump in forever so here's this! Lol, I'm done with it, so I'll probably post the chapters as I get free time! 
> 
> Thanks to M_E_Lover as always for the awesome beta work and encouragement!!

Harold walked in through the double doors with Shaw and Root by his side. Fusco was outside in the hallway sitting in a chair next to the room Harold had been dreading entering ever since he got the call.

His cell rang and it was from Reese’s phone, only when he answered, it wasn’t his partner’s usual crisp monotone voice on the other end of the line… It was Detective Fusco.

“Something happened…” Harold’s heart sank into his stomach, “they say it doesn’t look good, you should probably get down here.” The lead weight in Harold’s chest threatened to strangle him. He hung up the phone without so much as a goodbye.

Root and Shaw looked at him, “what’s wrong Harry?” Root had asked in her usual nonchalant voice.

“I… I think something’s happened to Mr. Reese…” He choked out, “detective Fusco said we need to go to the hospital.”

#

Fusco stood up and looked at the group in front of him. After a moment of silence from everyone, Fusco stepped back and motioned towards the door for them to go in, Harold looked at the two women beside him and they both motioned for him to go in first.

When he opened the door, his knees threatened to give out. The only thing he could comprehend was that John was lying in the hospital bed with a large bandage wrapped around his head and tubes and wires coming out from what seemed like every inch of his body. He had a breathing tube going down his throat and the soft hum of the ventilator surrounded everyone in the room. The bed was surrounded by beeping monitors and IV stands.

Harold swallowed hard, “what…” was all he could manage to get out before his throat felt like it closed. He made his way slowly over to the bed.

Fusco let out a breath, “We were chasing a lead on that murder suspect we’ve been working. Guy named Jules. Wonderboy…”

Harold grimaced and closed his eyes to hold back the tears, “John…”

Fusco paused and raised his eyebrows.

“His name is John.” He lifted his trembling hand to gently cover his partner’s.

Fusco frowned, cleared his throat and continued, “John and I almost had him, but his buddy came out of nowhere… he got a jump on me but John took him down… well, that’s when Jules came back… he took a shot at me and John pushed me out of the way… he took one in the chest…”

Harold huffed. The painful realization hit that John was doing exactly what he had hired him to do in the first place… fulfilling his purpose… and that’s what had landed him here. In this bed. Nearly beaten to death.

“Jules’ buddy got to me and that’s when…” Fusco stopped. Wanting to spare the graphic details of how John had his head bashed in by a piece of garbage that didn’t deserve to be above ground.

Harold turned his whole body around and looked at the detective with narrow eyes, “and that’s when they… well by the size of the bandages on his head… I’m assuming they weren’t gentle.” Harold’s eyes watered and the lump in his throat felt like it may never go away.

Fusco sighed, “yeah.”

Harold turned back around to face his partner and placed his hand back over John’s pale limp hand, “I’m here,” he whispered, not caring who heard him, “please… stay with me.”


	2. Chapter 2

John was admitted as John Riley. Officer hurt in the line of duty. His room was full of flowers and fellow officers stopped by every now and then. Fusco usually handled them, leaving Finch to stay by Reese’s bedside. No one really questioned who he was, Harold assumed they just thought he was a family member or a close friend.

Harold had only been there for a couple of hours but the traffic of nurses and doctors was constant. John’s surgeon, Doctor Brown, had brought Harold up to speed fairly quick. John had a brain bleed. An Intracerebral Hemorrhage to be exact. They were waiting for the swelling in his brain to go down to do surgery. If it didn’t go down… well, Harold zoned out at that part because he could not stand to listen to someone say John could potentially die.

They had taken the bullet out of John’s chest before Fusco had even called Harold. The Detective told Harold he didn’t want him to hear that John was gone from some doctor if the worst happened. So, he waited until he was out of surgery to call him.

Harold would lecture him later about waiting to let him know… now wasn’t the time. John was Fusco’s partner… They didn’t show it and they would probably die before they admitted it… but they cared for each other a great deal. Fusco was having just as hard of a time as the others were, well except for Harold of course.

Even Root wasn’t her usual chatty self. She and Shaw stayed at the hospital with Harold for about an hour until they decided to go to the subway and take care of Bear, grab Harold some necessities and food, and get back.

“Hey glasses,” Fusco whispered and moved over to the smaller man sitting next to John, “I’m gonna go get some coffee from the cafeteria, do you want anything?”

“No… no thank you, Detective,” Harold shook his head, his attention never leaving John’s lifeless body.

“No tea or anything?” Fusco continued.

“I’m fine…” Harold replied. Fusco took the hint and nodded, making his way out of the room and down to the cafeteria.

Harold was alone with his partner for the first time since he had arrived at the hospital. He wouldn’t have long; the nurses did checks almost every hour it seemed like. He reached out and held John’s hand, “always have to be the hero, don’t you?” He blinked back tears. His voice was shaky and desperate and _lost_.

Even though he was unconscious, he could imagine the smirk John would have on his face.

“You’re quite the social butterfly around the precinct I see…” Harold looked around at the flowers and the giant teddy bear that the captain had brought. Harold’s hand was enclosed around John’s, and he felt John squeeze his hand. Shell-shocked for a moment, his eyes widened and he looked up at his partner.

Then to Harold’s ultimate horror… John’s whole body started to go rigid and convulse.

A split second passed before nurses and doctors surrounded him. They were in controlled chaos around his partner who was having a seizure on the bed. He watched the mayhem of medical precision unfold in front of him. A nurse gently placed her hands around his arm and tugged him out of the room.

The door shut and he was left out in the hallway. Alone.

Alone. Once again. No one was there for him. The person he cared about most in the world was in the next room dying and he couldn’t do anything about it.

He looked around and saw a door that leads outside. Following it, he realized that it lead to a courtyard. Green grass, flowers, big tall trees, fresh air… he forgot he was in New York for a minute. He saw a green park bench and made his way over to sit down.

After a moment of watching a bee pollinate one of the flowers next to the bench, someone sat down next to him, “they took him to surgery.”

It was Shaw.

Harold looked up from his daze, “I thought they were waiting for the swelling to go down?”

“They couldn’t wait any longer Finch…” Shaw let out a breath.

Harold closed his eyes, “I want you to be honest Miss Shaw… do you think he’ll be okay?” A numbness slowly seeped through the pit of his stomach with an ever-sinking feeling.

She looked at her employer with sad eyes, “Finch… Hemorrhaging is nothing to mess around with…” She paused, wondering if he would want her to go on. When he nodded, she proceeded, “To be honest, it doesn’t look promising. So… if I didn’t know who Reese was, no I wouldn’t think he’d be okay. But I do know him… And I know he’d shoot the devil himself before he left you here alone… so yes. I think he’s going to make it.”

Harold smiled for the first time all day, “thank you, Miss Shaw.” He let out a deep breath and sagged further down into the bench and closed his eyes. A single tear broke through his eyelashes, sliding down his cheeks and chin.

Shaw put her arm on his shoulder, “hey,” she smiled, “I mean it, Finch. Never count Reese out.”

He took a deep breath in and let it out. The weight on his shoulders had yet to go away and the lump in his throat was still there. Reese was in emergency surgery fighting for his life. He couldn’t even think straight.

After a few more moments of silence, Shaw stood up, “Come on, Root and Fusco are in the waiting room. Let’s go make sure they haven’t scared any of the other people away.”

#

Harold sat on the couch next to Root. Fusco and Shaw were sitting in chairs opposite them. The waiting room was fairly large. They had picked a section that was portioned off from the other people in the room. It was quiet. Too quiet. Harold needed something to do. Needed something to take his mind off the fact that John was in the OR with his brain being operated on.

“He’s gonna be pissed when he wakes up and finds out they shaved his head,” Shaw chuckled and took a swig of her soda.

Harold just kept looking down at his thumbs that he was twirling in his lap. He wished he had his laptop. Coding always took his mind off of things. He needed a highly-encrypted text file to crack. He needed _something._

#

Fusco couldn’t look Harold in the eyes. He didn’t know what would happen if he did. Glasses didn’t seem like the type to lay blame… but this was John.

John was knocking on death’s door and it was Fusco’s fault. If he had just been a second faster. Or if he had been able to shoot the guy before he got to Reese… He could never forgive himself. John may never wake up again and Fusco was to blame.

John had all but taken out the two of them by himself. And Fusco couldn’t even stop one of them from smashing his partner’s head into the pavement.

He didn’t even want to think of what would happen if John actually died. Harold would be lost. They were basically a match made in heaven. You didn’t get one without the other. They had picked each other up from rock bottom and pieced each other back together. If John died… Harold wouldn’t be himself anymore.

Losing someone you love changes a person. But losing your lifeline to the world… it _destroys_ a person.

Stirred from his thoughts, Fusco looked back down at his shoes.

He couldn’t look Harold in the eyes.

#

Root couldn’t bear the silence anymore. But she didn’t want to leave Harold. The two had become closer over the years. She had always admired him. Looked up to him. She wouldn’t leave him like this.

Not when John was in there with his head open on the table.

 _John._ Root had to laugh. Not even two years ago she would have probably put the bullet in John’s chest herself. But now she couldn’t help but find herself praying that he was okay. Praying to a God that she didn’t believe in. Praying that he made it out of this alive and could come back to Harold. Because Harold needed John. And John needed Harold.

And the big lug _was_ starting to grow on her.

#

Shaw was the only one of them who actually knew the chances of Reese coming out of this the same person he was before.

And that wasn’t good.

She had seen injuries like this before. When she was a doctor. In the marines. And now it was one of her best friends. Well, one of her _only_ friends.

She put on a happy face and stayed calm for Harold and the others… but inside she was screaming. Why couldn’t it have happened when they were together? She could have stopped it. Not that Lionel was incompetent… but he didn’t have the training that she and Reese had.

She didn’t exactly lie to Harold… but it wasn’t the whole truth either. She didn’t think Reese would make it through the surgery, let alone be okay after this. But if John Reese has anything to do with it, his ass will be back in the subway in a month, locked loaded and ready to go.


	3. Chapter 3

Harold couldn’t stand waiting. All the clichés were true… it was the worst part. The surgery was going on 5 hours. It was 2 in the morning. Root and Shaw had fallen asleep, Fusco was down in the cafeteria getting coffee again, and Harold just sat in a chair with his long gone cold tea, staring at the wall.

“Hey glasses, any word?” Fusco came out of the elevator.

“No… nothing yet,” Harold replied.

Fusco’s mouth screwed up and he frowned, sitting down next to Harold with a humph. After he sipped his coffee a few times and Harold just kept staring at the wall, “I’m sorry Finch,” Fusco croaked.

Harold just gave him a questioned look and tilted his head sideways.

“It’s my fault… if I had just been quicker or…”

Harold lifted his hand for him to stop, “Detective… please don’t do this. Don’t take this away from him. He knew what he was doing. He chose to do it. This is not your fault,” Harold replied and went back to staring at the wall. He drew in a rough, ragged breath, “he knew what he was doing,” he added again.

Fusco just frowned, stirred his coffee, and turned his attention to the TV playing in the distance.

#

“It’s been almost seven hours…” Harold huffed as he paced around the waiting room. His stomach was in knots. “What is taking so long?” He rubbed his red inflamed eyes with his trembling hands.

“Harold… brain surgery isn’t really something that just happens in a few minutes,” Root replied and stood up from the couch, “come sit down.” She gently placed her hands on his shoulders and lead him over to a chair, “he’s going to make it through. The big lug’s tough.”

He sat down in the chair and at that moment the doors to the OR section opened and John’s surgeon came out. He couldn’t get up. Couldn’t move. Because the thought of never seeing John again surfaced in his mind. Never seeing his smirk when he brought in the morning donuts and tea to the subway. No more sarcastic replies over the comm. No more John.

The doctor made his way over to them and Harold gulped in a deep breath. He felt something grab his hand and when he looked down, he noticed that Root was holding it.

The doctor smiled to them and sat down with them, extending his hand to Fusco because he was the closest, “He made it through, we were able to relieve the pressure on his brain and evacuate the bleed. There was a little bit more bleeding than we would have liked. But he should be out of the woods for now.”

“Possible brain damage?” Shaw asked because Harold couldn’t speak and she knew that he was thinking the same thing.

“It is possible,” the doctor sighed, “the size of the bleed was rather large… but there’s really no way to know until he wakes up.”

Harold winced and sighed. The realization that even though John was alive… he may not be _John,_ hit him like a train _._ He swallowed, “can we see him?”

“Of course. He’s in the ICU. So only two people at a time can go in. I can take you back right now if you’d like.” The doctor smiled and stood up, motioning for Harold to go ahead of him.

Fusco and Shaw looked to Root, “You can go with him. We’ll wait.” Fusco smirked.

Root nodded and followed Harold and the doctor to the elevator, she wanted to be there for him as well as for John.

The ride up to the ICU floor was quiet. Harold was thankful that the doctor didn’t try to strike up useless conversation. He was never the type to want to chitchat. When the elevator doors opened, Harold’s breath was starting to come short.

“I’m going to warn you, he looks a little… rough,” the doctor started, “brain surgery isn’t a walk in the park. It’s going to be a long road ahead, but right now we’re just glad he made it through the surgery.”

Harold swallowed hard as they walked in through the doors. When he laid eyes on John, his heart physically ached and he thought he was going to pass out. Nothing could prepare you for when you see someone like that. Especially not someone who used to able to kill a man with his bare hands. Used to be able to. Harold already found himself using past tense.

Creamy yellow and white walls made up the complex room; the furthest wall was made up entirely of windows. John was lying in the hospital bed, his hair had been shaved off or at least that’s what it looked like, Harold couldn’t really tell with the gauze and surgical tape wrapped all the way around his head. He still had the respirator tube coming out of his mouth helping him breathe. The idea that John needed a machine to breathe for him made Harold physically ill.

There was already bruising forming on John’s face. Wires and tubes surrounded him, going in and coming out all over John’s body.

“Is he…” Harold stopped. “Can he…”

“Yes.” The doctor answered. “He can hear you, talk to him.” He started to make his way out the door. “I’ll give you some privacy. If you need anything the nurses are right outside, don’t be afraid to ask. They’ll be in and out all night.” He said as he walked out the door.

Harold sat down in a chair and scooted in closer to John’s bedside. Root realized Harold might want to be alone, so she placed her hand gently on his shoulder and made her way out into the hallway.

He barely even registered her leaving.

He let out a deep breath that he seemed to have been holding since they got off the elevator. He held back the urge to grab John’s hand, just sitting there staring at him. A nurse came in shortly after, her black hair was tied up in a bun, she didn’t look older than 30.

“Hi, Mr.…?” She started.

“Whistler. Harold Whistler,” he whispered back.

“Hi Harold, I’m Julie and I’ll be John’s head nurse while he’s in the ICU. So, if you need anything at all just let me know, okay?” She went over to shake Harold’s hand.

After he sat back down, she noticed that he was staring at John’s hand. “You can touch him if you want to,” she whispered. “It usually helps. He can feel that you’re here.” Harold lifted his hand and took John’s gently. He was careful of the IV tubing that was coming out of the top of his hand.

Julie checked John’s vitals and left. And for the first time in years, Harold cried openly. Tears streamed down his face as he sobbed quietly.

Once he gathered himself, he wiped his face with his handkerchief and cleared his throat. He stared at John for a moment, he swore he felt John’s hand tighten around his for a split second and then go limp again. “Thank you,” he whispered through more tears.


	4. Chapter 4

Harold was woken up by someone putting their hand on his shoulder.

He groaned and cracked his eyes open to see Lionel and Shaw standing there, “Root is gonna take you to get some fresh clothes, Harold.” Shaw smiled to him and held out her hand to help him stand up.

He sighed and closed his eyes again, clearing his throat, “I’m not leaving.” He sat up in the chair he had fallen asleep in, “you’re free to leave if you want but I’d like to stay.” He sat up and looked to John who was still ventilated and unconscious.

Shaw smiled, “okay Finch… we’ll bring you some clean clothes. Do you want us to bring anything else?”

“My laptop, if you could,” he replied and turned in the chair to face them, “thank you.” He turned his attention back to his partner in the bed and grabbed his hand, running small circles in John’s palm.

Shaw left with Root and Lionel went over to sit down on the couch in the ICU room on the other side of John’s bed.

Julie came in a little while later, “morning Harold,” she smiled and nodded.

“Good morning,” he smiled back to her.

She moved over to John’s bedside and checked all his vitals. She attached a new IV bag, what Harold assumed were anti-biotics. “I’m going to check his chest incision and then Doctor Brown will be in to check on the incision on his head and a couple other things.”

Harold nodded.

She lifted John’s gown, removing the bandage over his chest and looking over the foot-long stapled incision on his chest. Once she was satisfied, she redressed it and put his hospital gown back down.

“How is he?” Harold asked.

“As well as to be expected,” the nurse smiled, “his vitals all look well and he hasn’t digressed any overnight which is usually what we watch for after two major surgeries so close together like this.” She went over to the garbage and threw away her latex gloves, “doctor Brown will be in later to check on some things.”

She smiled and exited the room, “Well that’s good… ain’t it?” Fusco asked with a slight smirk.

“Yes… I suppose…” Harold replied, still worried that he was going to lose John at any moment.

About an hour later, Doctor Brown came into the room along with Julie, “Good morning Harold, get any sleep?”

“Good morning… some,” Harold replied, desperately hoping that he would have good news about John.

The doctor removed the bandage from John’s head.

Harold gasped internally at the sight of his partner’s scarred, bloody, and bruised head.

The doctor looked over a few things and had Julie redress the wound, “looks good.” He took off his gloves and took John’s chart off the end of the bed to look at it. Once he wrote some things down, he looked to Harold. “He’s doing well Harold. His BP is a little high, but I’ll have Julie start him on some medicine for that.”

Harold took a mental sigh of relief, but he still wasn’t satisfied, “do you have any idea as to when he’ll wake up?”

“Unfortunately, no… it’s up to him now. But don’t give up hope yet, it’s only been a day Harold… these things take time.”

Harold closed his eyes and frowned, “thank you, doctor.” He shook the doctor’s hand and sat back down in his chair.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” the doctor patted him on the shoulder and left the room.

Julie finished attaching a new bag of medication to John’s IV stand and walked over to Harold, kneeling down in front of him, “hey,” she gently put her hand on his knee and smiled, sensing how horrible he felt, “the doctor is right Harold… you don’t just recover from this kind of thing overnight. He’s going to be fine. I can feel it. But his body needs rest so it can heal… and that’s what it’s doing.”

Harold let out a deep breath, a tear sneaking down his cheek, “Alright…” he smiled, “thank you.”

She patted his knee, “no need to thank me… just doing my job.”

#

It had been about three more days. John had yet to wake up.            Harold hadn’t left the hospital. He spent the majority of his time watching the uneven rise and fall of John's chest. His breathing was ragged and volatile, assisted by machinery.

Root and Sameen were in and out throughout the past week. They were helping the numbers, the only two that had come in since John was hurt. It seemed the machine knew there was a crisis. Harold didn’t concern himself with it, he was only worried about one number… and that was John.

Fusco was there more than he wasn’t. Finch assumed he was still feeling guilty about the whole thing. He didn’t say anything though, everyone handled the tragedy in their own way.

The traffic of police officers had died down some since John’s last surgery. The captain was the one who stopped over the most, she seemed to have a soft spot for Detective Riley. The flowers and get well soon cards were still constant.

Harold was sipping his tea and eating some of the crackers that Fusco had brought him this morning when he heard a noise from John’s bed.

He sat his cup and package of crackers down and scooted his chair closer to his partner’s bed. Once he figured he had imagined the sound… John’s eyes cracked opened and then immediately clenched shut in pain. Harold felt like he had the wind knocked out of him and his mouth was suddenly dry, “John?” he croaked.

John’s forehead furrowed and his fingers that were lying on the white cotton blanket were intermittently twitching.

John’s eyes opened again and Harold could see that there were tears forming at the corners of them, “hold on John…” he soothed and went to the doorway to signal for Julie, “he’s awake!”

Julie wrapped her stethoscope around her neck and rushed over to John’s room.

She made her way over to the bed and leaned into John’s line of sight, “John? Can you hear me?”  
Harold stood by watching with wide eyes and a knot in his stomach the size of a softball.

“John, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand.” Julie started, clasping her smaller hand around the ex-op's.

It was semi-difficult for John to squeeze her hand with the IV in the top of his hand, but as Harold looked down, he saw John’s fingers wrap around the nurse’s hand.

“Good,” she smiled, “can you open your eyes for me?”

With an obvious amount of effort, John managed to open his eyes again halfway and looked to the nurse, “welcome back.” She looked to Harold and smiled from ear to ear.

Harold’s heart flipped and the knot in his stomach shrunk a little, he gave a nervous smile in return.

John grimaced and put his hand to his throat, registering the breathing tube for the first time.

“Ah, careful…” Julie carefully grabbed John’s hand, “you were in an incident, John… you need this to breathe for now…” John closed his eyes and Harold laughed, knowing damn well what that look meant.

Julie looked to Harold, “Doctor Brown is on his way, I paged him when you told me he was awake.” She turned her attention back to John, “I think there’s someone here who would like to see you.” She smiled and winked to Harold, whose eyes grew even wider and he gulped.

Harold moved over closer to the bed, into John’s line of sight, “John…” Harold smiled and grabbed his partner’s hand. The two just looked at each other for a while, before the doctor made his way into the room.

“Well welcome back Mr. Riley… you gave us all quite the scare.” The doctor pulled up a stool and sat down next to John, “Do you remember anything at all? Blink once for yes, twice for no.”

John blinked twice.

The doctor explained what happened, made sure John understood and was comfortable and motioned for Harold to follow him into the hallway. Harold looked to John, “I’ll be right back.”

“He seems to be following conversations and understanding what’s going on. His motor skills seem to be in tact also.” The doctor smiled and put his hand on Harold’s shoulder, “we won’t know about his speech until we extubate him of course… but I think we’re in the clear from major brain damage.”

Harold’s eyes fell shut and he let out a short choked breath.

“He’s still got a long road. He probably won’t be back to himself for a few months. The medication is going to make him sleep… a lot. The pain may seem unbearable at times. And he’s going to need a lot of around the clock care for a while.”

Harold’s brow furrowed and the corners of his mouth fell.

The doctor chuckled and smiled, “Harold I’m just telling you all this so you can know what to expect. But even though all that’s going to happen, it still beats the heck out of the alternative.”

Harold smiled a bit, “Thank you Doctor Brown. For everything.”

The doctor nodded and smiled, shaking Harold’s hand and after he answered a couple more questions from Harold he left.

Harold made his way back into the room to see Julie fussing over John’s gown, trying to make him more comfortable. Harold couldn’t help but smile as he sat down in his chair and scooted it closer to his partner’s bed.

“Okay John, I’m going to give you a little something more for pain before I leave.”

John scrunched his hand in the sheet and rolled his eyes.

“Was it something I said?” Julie chuckled.

“He’s not particularly fond of pain killers…” Harold started, “he’s had his fair share of experience with them…”

“Well I’m sorry John but your body needs to heal and these are going to help.” Julie administered the drug into the tubing in John’s hand, “I’ll be in and out.” She smiled to Harold and left.

Harold took a deep breath, his partner turned his attention to him and his eyes were soft.

John’s mouth quirked up, something Harold thought he would never see again and he was amazed that John was lying here smiling at him while he had a ventilator tube down his throat.

“I thought I lost you…” Harold started, “I’m so glad you’re going to be okay.” Harold could tell not being able to talk was killing John. Not being able to reassure Harold that he was okay. He blinked heavily, already tiring in his weakened state in addition to the multitudes of medications he was on. Harold grabbed his hand again, “get some sleep John. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Harold stood up and pressed a soft kiss John’s forehead, “I love you.”

Harold sat back down and noticed that John’s eyes were closed and his face had relaxed… falling into a slumber.

Harold stood up and quietly made his way out into the hallway to call Detective Fusco and Root and Shaw.


	5. Chapter 5

John was sleeping and Harold and Fusco were sitting in his room with him the next day. Harold had a book open on his lap and Fusco was snoring over on the couch. He came over after he worked a graveyard shift last night. He left the precinct as soon as Harold had called.

Julie and another nurse came into the room, “Morning Harold, we have some good news.”

Harold closed his book and sat up in his chair, “Oh?” Fusco woke up and rubbed his eyes, clearing his throat and blinking away the sleepiness.

“John’s been cleared to get off the vent,” she smiled and went over next to John, “John…” She nudged his arm, “time to wake up sleepy head.”

John scrunched his eyes and then opened them to look at Julie.

“Good news,” she smiled, pressing the button to lift his bed up more, “you get this out today.”

She pointed to the tube forcing air into his lungs. John’s eyes fell closed and his body relaxed a fraction, “yeah, thought you’d be happy about that,” Julie smiled.

“When are you going to do it?” Harold asked, he tried to hide the excitement in his voice, but failed.

“Well if John’s okay with it I figured we could do it right now…” She looked at John and winked. He winked back, smiling as much as he could.

Julie and the other nurse set to getting everything they needed, Harold moved off to the side so that they could do everything they needed without him getting in the way. “Ready John?”

He nodded his head slightly.

“All right, this is going to be pretty unpleasant. Just a warning.” She took the tape off that was holding it into place, “Okay John, there’s a balloon around this tube and when I deflate it, it’s going to make you cough, so just let yourself cough and I’ll pull it out at the same time.”

John started to cough when Julie decompressed a syringe connected to one of the breathing tube wires, and then she pulled the whole tube out. John kept coughing, Julie put a suction tool into his mouth and had him close his mouth around it, “there all done.” She smiled and took the suction out, “good job John…” another cough erupted from his throat, “can you say hello?” she asked, leaning down and wiping the tears that had formed from John’s eyes.

“H…” he coughed and shook his head.

“Come on John... I know it hurts but I need you to try,” she said.

“Hi,” he rasped out, inducing another coughing fit, which sent sharp pains down his chest, causing him to wince in pain and grab the incision site over his sternum.

“Ahh, I know…” Julie put an oxygen cannula into his nose and helped him lie back, “deep breaths. I’ll get you some water.” She cleaned up her supplies and the other nurse took them to the trash, making her way out the door.

Julie went back over to John, “your throat is going to be really sore for a while John. But I’m sure you’re just happy to have that stupid tube out.” She smiled and put her hand on his shoulder, “do you need anything else? How’s your pain 1-10?”

“4,” John rasped out. Harold smiled at hearing John’s voice for the first time in a week… even if it was raspier than usual. Which Harold didn’t even think was possible.

Julie gave him an unimpressed look and sat on the edge of the bed, “John… I’ve been around the block a time or two and I know that your pain is worse than a 4…”

Harold huffed and leaned in to whisper into her ear, “there’s no point in arguing… he’s… stubborn.”

“I… heard… that…” John whispered and looked to Harold.

“Okay well… please just press your pain button if you start to feel worse. And don’t be afraid to hit the call button. I’m here for the rest of the night.” She smiled, “I’ll be back with your ice water.”

Julie left the room and Harold smiled to his partner, who could barely keep his eyes open. He sat down in the chair that had been his home for the past week and scooted it back beside John’s bed.

“You should really take the medicine when they offer it, John…” Harold started, “you just had your chest and head cut open.”

John cracked his eyes open halfway and glared at his partner.

Harold huffed, “forget I said anything.”

After a moment or two of silence, Reese cleared his throat, “I’m sorry… Finch.” Barely a whisper.

Harold just looked at him sadly, “John… don’t apologize.” Harold put his hand on his arm, “you were just doing…” he motioned his hands in the air, “what you do.”

John’s mouth quirked up, “Still… sorry.” He coughed, once again sending a sharp pain down his chest and his head.

Harold heard the younger man’s muffled groan and noticed his fingers dig into the mattress.

“John…” Harold started and grabbed his hand, “please… I understand your dislike for the medicine… I didn’t like it either when I was recovering from the… accident. But it helps and there’s absolutely no need for you to be in this amount of pain.”

John clenched his eyes shut and tried to ride out the wave of agony, “I… wanna talk… to you.”

“Oh, John… I’ll still be here when you wake up…” Harold smiled and kissed John’s knuckles, “I don’t like seeing you in pain.” 

John sighed and closed his eyes, admitting defeat… “Okay.”

Harold smiled, and then Julie came back in with his Styrofoam cup of water, “here you go John…” She sat it down on his bedside table, “need anything else?”

John kept his eyes closed, “my head hurts.”

She smirked, “oh… well, I’ll be right back with a little something extra.”

Harold winked to her and she patted him on the shoulder, “good work.”

#

“Harold. I’m fine… you should go home… take a shower and freshen up a little... eat some real food.” John said during one of the rare moments he was awake the next day.

“John, I’m fine. I don’t want to leave…” Harold replied back, not even phased.

John could barely keep his eyes open, “get Fusco in here…” He paused. Harold leaned in to see if his partner had nodded off. “I need to talk to him.” John finished his sentence and opened his eyes. “And go home, Harold… I promise I’ll be fine.”

Harold sighed, “fine… I’ll go get the detective.” He stood up and leaned down to press a kiss to John’s head, still covered in the bandages. “I’ll be back soon, and no being unkind to the nurses.”

John smirked, “I’ll try.”

#

Fusco walked into John’s room, a lump in his throat. He hadn’t talked to John for longer than a “how are you feeling?” He had been in the waiting room for about an hour now. He told Finch he just wanted to stay out there. Especially since John was sleeping.

He had gone home yesterday as soon as they took John off the ventilator. He said it was because Lee had a hockey game… but the truth was that he couldn’t stand to look at John and know that he was the reason he was like that.

“Lionel…”   John nodded to him and his mouth quirked up some.

“Hey, partner.” Lionel made his way closer to Reese and stood next to him, “how ya feelin’?”

Reese huffed, “like a million bucks. They’ve got me on enough drugs to put down an elephant.” Fusco laughed at the eye roll Reese gave.

“Yeah well, you need it.” Fusco frowned, “Look John. I’m sorry you’re here cause of me.” He had to get it off his chest, it was eating him alive and he couldn’t stand it any longer. He had messed up, been too slow and not good enough and John was suffering because of it.

“Lionel,” Reese started, “this isn’t your fault. If anything, I’m still here because you were there. It was stupid for me…” John paused and took a deep breath, the pain in his chest starting to flare up again. He cleared his throat and continued, “I was stupid. I should have handled it better… I’m just glad you didn’t get hurt.”

Fusco’s mouth hung open and his brows raised. Just as he was about to say something, Julie came in through the door, “How’s my patient this afternoon?”

“Just peachy,” John answered with a smirk. Julie had grown on him in just the first couple of days since he had been awake. He liked her no nonsense attitude. He wasn’t too fond of the constant nagging about the pain killers, but he knew that was just her job.

“Did you eat your lunch?” She asked, writing down some of John’s vitals onto his chart.

“Some…” he replied.

“Mhmmmm…” She hummed, not believing him for a second. The array of medication that he was on took away his appetite. “How’s the pain?” She asked, noticing his pale complexion.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he replied and tried to sit up in bed a little. Julie moved to help him. After he was successfully propped up with some pillows, he motioned towards Fusco, “Julie, this is Lionel, he’s my partner on the force.”

Julie smiled, “Yes we’ve met once before I believe.” She shook Lionel’s offered hand, “you’re the one who keeps John in line eh?”

Lionel laughed, “I try my best.”

The nurse turned her attention back to her patient, “I’m heading out for the night, do you need anything before I go?”

“No, I think I’m good…” John replied shortly.

“You sure? I can add a little bit more morphine… you haven’t had anything major since last night.”

John gave in. He’d learned that there was no point in arguing with her because she was just as stubborn as he was. He realized that it was what made her good at her job. A lot like him.

“Fine… but not a lot, okay?” He sighed, “Harold’s coming back soon and…” He stopped again, this time the pain in his head shot through his skull like lightning.

“I’ll be right back,” she started to make her way out of the room, “I’m sure Harold will understand if you fall asleep.”

Frustrated, John let out a breath and closed his eyes.

“Well Wonderboy, I gotta get going…” Fusco put his hand on John’s shoulder, “I’ll stop by tomorrow after work, maybe bring a few of the guys with me if you’re up to it.”

John’s mouth quirked up some, “Thank, Lionel.”

Fusco left and Julie came back in, “Okay, it’s just a few milligrams… nothing too serious. But it’ll talk the edge off.”

She injected the syringe into the tubing in John’s arm, “Where’s Harold?” She asked, absolutely shocked that the older man had left the hospital.

“I told him to go home… get some real food and take a shower.” John replied, already feeling the morphine starting to take effect.

“Oh. Well good.” She smiled and stood up, “Alright I’m off. I’ll see you in the morning for rounds. Bright and early.”

He rolled his eyes again and sighed, “great.”


	6. Chapter 6

Harold made his way back into John’s room with Shaw. She and Root had finished up their last number, and while Root had gotten instructions from the machine to do something, Shaw told Harold that she would go back to the hospital with him.

“Mister Reese you have a new…” Harold stopped when he saw that the younger man was passed out. “Sorry Miss Shaw… he hasn’t been awake for more than a few minutes here and there…” Harold frowned.

Shaw smirked, “It’s okay Finch…” She patted him on the back, “sleep is good in his condition.”

“Yes… yes, I suppose.” Harold’s mouth quirked up and he sat down in the chair. The thing was actually pretty comfortable. Julie had brought it in for him their first night in the ICU. It was a big red sleeper chair with cushions the size of Harold himself.

Shaw made her way over to the couch and grabbed a magazine, flopped down and kicked her feet up.

“Miss Shaw!” Harold hissed, “Feet off the furniture!”

John’s eyes cracked open and he started to laugh, “Harold… you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

“Hah, funny Reese.” Shaw snorted and flipped through her magazine.

“Mister Reese I’m sorry we woke you…”

“Don’t worry Finch, I was just resting my eyes,” John smiled.

Harold leaned over the edge of John’s bed and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, “How are you feeling? Did Julie give you anything before she left?”

“Yeah… a little more morphine.” John sighed, “I asked her not to give me too much… because you were coming back soon.”

Harold gave John a concerned look, “Please don’t put yourself through unnecessary pain on my account.”

“I’m feeling all right Harold…” John replied. “Besides, Fusco and I had a good talk and I had to be semi-lucid for that.”

Shaw looked to the man lying in the bed, “Have they said anything about getting out of the ICU?” Her serious demeanor was something that neither Harold nor John saw a lot… unless she was on a mission of course.

“Julie said something about another day or two.” John sighed and his head fell back to the pillow, “I need to get out of here.”

Harold sighed, “John… you just had brain surgery. And to add to that you had your chest cracked open as well.”

John smiled, “Would it kill you to sugar coat things once in a while?”

“Yes… it actually would.” Harold smirked, “did you eat your breakfast or lunch?”

John tried to change the subject, “So who brought the teddy bear?”

“The captain… and do not change the subject. You need to eat John…” Harold scolded.

John just sent a glare towards Harold, one that he had seen many times and knew that it was time to be quiet. John would do what he wanted and there was no use in arguing. He’d stick Julie on him in the morning.

Silence fell over the room. John started to doze off; his energy levels had depleted after being awake for the longest he had since he woke up two days ago. He was almost asleep when his body gave an involuntary jerk, sending a jolt of pain across his chest and his head.

His eyes snapped open, he tried to stifle the gasp that came out of his mouth but he failed.

Harold sat up out of his chair, “Mister Re… John?” He caught himself before he called him Reese. “What’s wrong? Do you need a nurse?”

“No…” John gritted his teeth, “it’ll pass…”

Harold watched the color drain from his partner’s face and decided enough was enough. He looked to Shaw and she got up and followed his unspoken command to go get a nurse.

John tried to take deep breaths, the pain wasn’t getting better, but it wasn’t getting worse either. He looked to Harold and saw the concern on his face, “I’m… fine.”

“I’d beg to differ…” Harold frowned and grabbed the ex-op’s hand. A male nurse and Shaw came back into the room. Harold recognized him as one of the nurses that had helped with John right after his brain surgery. He recalled his name as Brad.

“How ya doing, John?” Brad asked walking over to check the readouts from John’s monitor.

“He’s in a rather large amount of pain. He was nodding off and it looked like he jerked awake.” Harold spoke for John, realizing he probably didn’t want to.

“Okay…” He grabbed John’s chart, “How come Julie only gave you a few milligrams?”

“I didn’t want any more…” John sighed, the pain subsiding a bit.

Brad gave John a sad look. “Okay… well, I brought you some more. It’ll help you get some sleep too.” Brad took the syringe and decompressed it into John’s IV line, “There… now get some sleep.” He patted John’s shoulder, “If you need anything just press your button.” He smiled to Shaw and Harold and made his way out of the room.

Harold noticed that the ex-op’s energy was diminishing rapidly. His eyes were closed and his breathing had slowed down. Harold leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, “Sweet dreams.”

“Harold…” John whispered without opening his eyes, “I love you too…”

Harold had a perplexed look on his face, “hmmm?”

“When I woke up…” John was fighting the tug of the morphine, “you said it… and I couldn’t say it back.” His eyes fluttered open, “I just wanted you to know…” His eyes fluttered shut and he succumbed to unconsciousness.

Harold smiled, “I already know,” and kissed his partner’s lips.

#

They had decided John was stable enough to be transferred from the ICU to a normal room two days later.

“I’ll come by and visit every day. I promise,” Julie said as she pushed John’s wheelchair to his new room. It was the first time he got out of bed since everything had happened, “I have eyes everywhere… so I’ll know when you’re being stubborn and I’ll come kick your ass,” she smirked. “post brain and heart surgery and all.”

John smiled, “I’d like to see you try.” He was going to miss having her on his team. She was a great nurse and John respected the hell out of her.

Harold laughed as he walked beside them. Things were looking up, John was improving every day. The around the clock medication was lessening. They had taken the bandages off his head yesterday. Harold hated to look at it, the staples that seemed like they were holding John’s head together didn’t make him feel the best.

Bruising had started to form around the incision, his eye and on his cheek.

Julie wheeled him into the room and helped him to bed, “So you still need to take it easy. The meds are still going to make you groggy. They’ll probably get you up and around moving a little bit either tonight or tomorrow.” She connected all the wires and placed the IV stand. “And before you ask, if you’re a good kid, you may be able to leave next week.”

John smiled and nodded, “Sounds good boss.”

She huffed, “And remember, I have eyes everywhere. So if you don’t eat your lunch… or skip a dose of your meds, I’ll know and I’ll be down here in a minute to kick your stubborn ass back into shape.” The sides of her mouth quirked up and she leaned in to give John a hug, “take it easy. I mean it. I don’t want to see you back in the ICU because you overdid yourself.”

“I can’t make any promises… but I’ll try,” he said and returned the smile.

Harold smiled at her, “thank you so much, Julie. For everything.” He offered his hand, but she pulled him into a hug,

“Take care of him, Harold,” she whispered into his ear.

He smiled at her in return. She looked to John, “Stay out of trouble. I’ll be in tomorrow to make sure you haven’t scared any of the nurses away.”

She left after a few more instructions to John. Harold sat on the edge of John’s bed, “So… how are you really feeling?”

“Fine,” John replied with a smile. Just then, he and Harold heard some voices coming from outside in the hallway. One of the voices they recognized as Detective Fusco.

“I think he’s in here…” Fusco said as he walked in through the door. Four other men followed him. Two in the blue street uniform of the NYPD and two in suits that screamed ‘NYPD detective.’

“Hey, some of the guys were asking about you and I figured I’d bring them over since you finally got out of the ICU.” Fusco smirked, “they wanted to see for themselves that you were still the same cheery old Riley.”  

John smiled, “hey guys.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here's the last chapter! Sorry for the delay, had my top wisdom teeth out and I'm just now getting up and around lol. Hope you enjoyed the story!  
> Thanks to M_E_Lover as always for her beta work and encouragement!

The group of guys left and John let out a sigh. Harold could tell he was exhausted. That was the longest he’d held a conversation since he woke up.

Harold squeezed his hand, “tired?”

“A little…” John breathed out and smirked, “I thought they’d never leave…”

Harold huffed, “Well I see Detective Riley is quite the gadabout,” he laughed.

John glared at him and then rolled his eyes with a smirk, “it’s all for the cover, Finch.”

“Whistler!” Harold hissed quietly and with brows raised.

John laughed again and just turned his head away from Harold, looking out the window. He sighed, seeing the sun and trees outside his room.

Harold squeezed John’s hand again, “get some sleep, you’ve earned it.” Harold leaned down and kissed the ex-op on the forehead. Realizing that he was already asleep, he grabbed his book off of the table beside the bed and started to read.

#

“John… your brain took a double tap… you’re going to have to relearn how to do some basic things.” The therapist said, holding John in place on the bed. “So, you need to take it slow, okay?”

John was getting ready to walk for the first time in almost two weeks. He looked up to the younger man standing beside him. His name was Jason, he had told Harold and John that he had been in the field for about 3-4 years… but John thought he still looked like he was in High School.

Julie had recommended him, so John figured he must be okay.

“I think… I’ll be fine.” John tried to push himself up, but the room started to pitch and sway. He fell back down onto the bed, grabbing his head.

“Ooookay… this is what I’m talking about…” Jason moved in front of his patient, “are you good?” He asked, snapping his fingers in front of his eyes.

“Yea…” John huffed, “just… got a little dizzy.” He opened in eyes and smiled, “try again?”

“Yeah… how about a little slower this time, tough guy…” Jason laughed and moved back over beside the injured man. John took a deep breath in and let it out as he pushed himself up off the bed.

“There you go,” Harold smiled and moved over out of the way, “slow and steady John…” He smiled again. John smiled at him and started to walk forward.

#

Harold pushed John’s wheelchair out into the courtyard. He could walk just fine by himself now, it had been another couple of days since he took his first steps after the whole incident. The wheelchair was just hospital protocol.

Things were looking up. The bruising on his head had all but disappeared, his hair had started to grow back… something that Harold was extremely jealous of because he couldn’t even think about growing hair that fast. He didn’t need an IV anymore and he had the central line taken out of his chest about two days after he left the ICU.

The nurses and doctors had agreed to let Harold take him outside.

They came to a stop beside a bench, surrounded by fresh green grass and a few smaller trees.

Harold made to help John out of the chair, which brought an eye roll and a scoff from his quickly healing partner.

John sat down on the bench and Harold followed. Harold noticed what seemed like a sigh of relief from his partner and smiled, “I see you’re enjoying the fresh air.”

“Yeah well it beats the hell out of latex and anti-septic,” John scoffed. He grabbed Harold’s hand and his expression turned more serious, “we should talk Harold.”

Harold’s brow furrowed, “hmmm?”

“After all this… I don’t know if… well, I saw what it did to you and…” John rubbed his hand over his face and let out another breath, “I think it’s time for Detective Riley to retire.”

Harold’s eyes grew wide. He couldn’t say that he hadn’t thought about it. Whisking John away to some private island or another country, leaving the numbers for Fusco, Root and Shaw and the small alliance of irrelevants that the machine had created.

But he never in a million years thought that John would agree. “John… I… are you sure?” Harold stumbled over the words excitedly.

John’s mouth quirked up, “Of course not, Harold… but I see what you went through during this and I can’t put you through that again.”

Harold smiled sadly, “John, don’t worry about me. This is your purpose… what you were born for… to save people.” Harold squeezed John’s hand, a small gesture of reassurance, “I will not let you give it up because of me even though you know how worried I get.”

John leaned in and pressed their lips together, “Are you sure?” He smiled, his face inches away from his partner’s, “Because you say the word and I’m done. No more numbers… no more aliases… just you… and me.” 

Harold grinned, “What do you say we just wait and see how you recover?” He smiled, “Besides… I’m looking forward to being home with you for a month or two... Professor Whistler has a quite a few weeks of vacation time accumulated that he could use,” he chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to the scar on John’s head.

John’s cheeks turned red, “Oh does he now?”

#

Harold put the remaining few belongings of John’s into a duffle bag. They were leaving the hospital today. There were some police officers from John’s precinct there to give them an escort. Apparently, that’s what they did whenever one of their own was hurt. Harold thought it was extraordinary, but John just played it off as no big deal.

So, it was safe to say he was getting back to his usual self.

“Ready to roll?” Fusco came in through the door with another officer.

“Lionel… do we have to do this?” Reese groaned, “I mean I appreciate it and all… but it’s really not my kind of thing.”

“It’s the unwritten rule of the NYPD, Riley…” Fusco smiled.

John sighed, “I guess…”

#

Harold helped John get settled on the couch. He had propped up some pillows and made sure that he had a blanket, “need anything else?”

“Just you,” John smirked, stifling a yawn.

Harold smiled back and settled in next to his partner on the couch, “feeling all right?” Harold asked.

“Just fine,” John smiled and leaned forward to press a kiss to Harold’s forehead. “You know, I think that I could get used to this. How about giving me a little while longer to think about letting you whisk me off. Maybe I’ll even surprise myself.” John grinned.

Harold looked at him fondly, “Promises, promises. Don’t get my hopes up, John.”

“I’m serious Harold, there is no one else on the planet that could even come close to making me think about it.” He leaned in and kissed his partner. “You never know.”

They embraced for a long time and as they both nodded off in the comfort of each other’s arms and they dreamed of faraway places where they lived happily ever after with Bear by their side.


End file.
